


Tumblr Ficlets Collection

by septemberprudence



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septemberprudence/pseuds/septemberprudence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short things previously posted on tumblr. There's an index with pairings and links in the first chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

2\. [Christian Horner/Daniil Kvyat](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/11479342) \- Christian is missing Seb. Dany notices.  
3\. [Nico Rosberg/Lewis Hamilton](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/11479414) \- There's no escaping each other.  
4\. [Jenson Button/Nico Rosberg](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/11479471) \- No more secrets. Set after the announcement Jenson was staying in F1 for 2016.  
5\. [Sebastian Vettel/Kimi Raikkonen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/11479525) \- The King receives a tribute. Viking AU  
6\. [Max Verstappen/Jenson Button/Fernando Alonso](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/11479549) \- Max doesn't mind being used.  
7\. [Sebastian Vettel/Nico Rosberg](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/11479591) \- It was supposed to be a joke. Set after the Japanese GP press conference.  
8\. [Kimi Raikkonen/Valtteri Bottas](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/11479618) \- There was a gap, Kimi swears. Set after the Russian GP.  
9\. [Sebastian Vettel/Kimi Raikkonen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/12474623) \- Zombie AU  
10\. [Jenson Button/Nico Rosberg](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/12474674) \- Jenson is Nico's hired bodyguard.  
11\. [Mark Webber/Sebastian Vettel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/12474716) \- Mark and Seb at the FIA gala.  
12\. [Mark Webber/Fernando Alsonso](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/12474755) \- Fernando is Mark's sub, but Mark has news. (Also implied Mark/Mitch Evans)


	2. Daniil Kvyat/Christian Horner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christian is missing Seb. Dany notices.

It was more difficult than Christian had expected it would be, seeing Seb around the paddock dressed in red. It didn't look right on him, Christian thought, it made his skin look pale and washed out, as if he wasn't quite himself.

And yet, he seemed content, even happy. Winning suited him, it always had. 

They would nod at each other sometimes, occasionally say _hello_ as they strode past one another, but they never stopped, never really spoke. 

_You're going to regret this_ , Christian had told him that final night, and Seb had gazed back at him, pity in his face.

_No_ , he replied, his voice steady, _no regrets._ Christian hadn't believed him. 

He spun his chair around at the pit wall, watching as Seb walked past the garages, deep in conversation with his engineers, gesturing to demonstrate some issue with the car. He was frowning in concentration, bottom lip protruding in that luscious, carelessly tempting way.

"You still miss him, don't you?" someone said, and Christian looked up to see Dany, observing him with serious, narrowed eyes.

Christian smiled weakly, shrugging. "Things change," he said, and turned away.

Later that night, when Dany knocked at his hotel room door, Christian didn't need to ask why. He pulled Dany in closer as they kissed, hands sliding restlessly down his body, the _shape_ of him so unfamiliar it made Christian shiver.

It should have felt wrong, he thought, surprised, but instead it was simply different.

"You can turn out the lights if you need to," Dany offered, and just for a split second he looked younger than Christian could ever remember him being.

"No." Christian shook his head firmly, taking a deep breath. "I think we   
should leave them on."


	3. Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no escaping each other.

Lewis is on the phone in his office when Nico wanders in, a bored, sulky look on his face. He listlessly walks up and down, staring at some of the memorabilia and trophies in the display cabinets that line the walls, before turning to face Lewis.

Who holds up his hand, warning Nico to be quiet as he listens carefully to the voice speaking down the line. This is an important call. Nico, of course, wouldn't acknowledge it as being an important call, because it's about Lewis' music, and while Nico doesn't ever _say_ anything, his barely hidden almost-sneer of amusement whenever Lewis tries to discuss to discuss that particular subject is far more revealing than any words could be.

There are things about him Nico will never understand, and sometimes Lewis doesn't know how to deal with that. Mostly, he just tries to ignore it. It's easier that way.

But it's not so easy to ignore Nico like this, when he's standing in front of Lewis' desk, taking off his shirt, running his hands across his chest, fingers circling over his nipples. He's so beautiful that Lewis can barely stand it, and he has to take a breath, concentrate and focus.

It still annoys him, that he's this predictable, this much of cliche, that the love of his life is not only his childhood sweetheart but the prettiest, blondest, _whitest_ guy imaginable. It's fucking embarrassing, is what it is, but they've never been able to stay away from one another for long, no matter how hard they try.

Nico pulls off his jeans and underwear, and then moves behind the desk, climbing sinuously into Lewis' lap, heedless of his silent protests, kissing Lewis' throat with soft, warm lips.

"Hey," Lewis says hurriedly into the phone, "can we pick this up tomorrow? Something urgent's come up, sorry." He murmurs some platitudes and goodbyes, hoping he sounds at least relatively normal, and ends the call fast as he can.

Nico doesn't even pause, still licking Lewis' neck, sucking and biting his skin, and Lewis sighs. "Why do you have to do that, man?" he asks, trying to sound as pissed off as he feels, but the heat in his voice gives him away. 

Nico looks up at him, smirking. "Because I _can_ ," he replies, and stands, walking out of the room, hips swaying in that way that makes Lewis lose his mind, every single fucking time.

"You coming?" Nico throws back over his shoulder as he disappears round the corner, and Lewis doesn't answer, sitting for a minute, stewing in his own irritation, but then he gets up, follows resignedly.

It's not as if he's got any place better to be.


	4. Jenson Button/Nico Rosberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No more secrets. Set after the announcement Jenson was staying in F1 for 2016.

They met in their usual hotel room, arriving at almost exactly the same time, but Nico didn't say anything. It was more than obvious that Jenson was _waiting_ for him to say something, the way that smugly amused little smirk seemed to be permanently plastered over his lips, but Nico wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, he took off his clothes in silence, then laid back on the bed, waiting, arms folded behind his head.

Jenson stood at the foot of the bed, still fully clothed, smiling down at him. Finally, he said, "I couldn't tell you, you know that."

"You could have," Nico replied quickly, aware of how petulant he sounded, but not caring. "You _chose_ not to."

"I really wasn't sure for a while," Jenson said, then laughed. "And it was so much fun watching you squirm."

For a split second Nico was angry enough that he genuinely considered getting up and just leaving, slamming the door behind him and never coming back, but too much time had passed and they were both now too old for such childishness.

"Anyway," Jenson went on. "I didn't have to tell you. You always knew I'd stay. You knew before I did."

"That's not true," Nico objected, but it kind of _was_. He'd been convinced Jenson wouldn't walk away, not yet, not with things the way they were. But nothing was ever certain, not in this business, and he'd been surprised before. "I just need to know where we stand," he said.

"We stand where we stand, Britney, same as ever." Jenson climbed on to the bed, his weight settling down over the length of Nico's body, the feel of it so comfortingly familiar it made something inside Nico almost pulse with joy. Jenson was still dressed, and the rough seam of his jeans rubbed up against Nico's hardening cock. "That's not going to change," he added. "Whatever happens."

"You promise?" Nico asked softly as Jenson leaned in, mouth achingly close to his own.

"I promise," Jenson whispered, the words a seal, lost inside their kiss.


	5. Kimi Raikkonen/Sebastian Vettel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King receives a tribute. Viking AU.

Tributes are being gifted to King Sebastian by his subjects, and he is trying his best to appear interested. His father taught him how important it is to cultivate loyalty, so he smiles regally, nods and says _thank you_. They bow and scrape in obsequious deference, shuffling away from the throne.

The King sighs, when suddenly there is a commotion at the end of the great hall, and he looks up with interest. A man in chains is being dragged into the room, struggling wildly against his restraints, barking out what must be protests in a harsh, guttural-sounding language.

The King's guards rush in to help, and the man is quickly subdued enough to be presented in front of the King, still fighting, but with slightly less vigor. He is dressed in strange, primitive clothing and what little the King can see of his skin is pale, though covered in dirt. He has clear eyes that shine like ice, and blond hair combed back from his forehead, with a long, matted-looking braid draped over his shoulder.

He stares defiantly up at the King, who sits up straighter on his throne. Perhaps today will not be so tedious as usual. "And what do we have here then?" he asks. 

"We believe he's a Viking, your majesty," the men who brought him in say.

A murmur runs through the gathered crowd. A Viking? Surely they are only the stuff of legend, a seafaring race so fierce and ruthless that no one has ever lived to tell of an encounter with them.

"We found him on the far shore," they say. "His boat was wrecked and he tried to attack us, so we took him prisoner in your name, brought him here."

The King smiles graciously, even as he can feel a distinct throb in his groin. He shifts in his seat, taking in the sight before him. This man is a true warrior by the look of him, a fighter who will not easily bend to the King's will. He will have to be broken, tamed. A shiver of pleasure runs through the King at the thought.

"I thank you," he says to the men either side of the Viking, "for such a magnificent tribute." He waves to his chief courtier, who hands each of the men a pouch filled with gold coins.

They take the money greedily, and before they turn to leave, the King asks, "Have you been able to determine the creature's name?"

"We're not sure," one says, "but we think it might be Kimi."

_"Kimi,"_ the King repeats, intrigued. The Viking narrows his eyes, and mutters something in his unfamiliar language.

The King rises, and the guards either side of his throne stamp their staffs on the ground, dismissing his assembled subjects. They begin to shuffle out of the great hall, and the King turns to his courtiers.

"Take him down to the dungeons," he says, gesturing at the Viking carelessly, not wanting to betray himself, display any undignified eagerness. "Clean him up and then bring him to my chambers."

The courtiers nod, ordering the guards in turn. 

The King gathers his robes around him and takes his leave.


	6. Max Verstappen/Jenson Button/Fernando Alonso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max doesn't mind being used.

Max understands perfectly well _why_ he's here, why they're doing this. He's simply a diversion, he knows that, just something take their mind off the car, the team, the press, the pressure. 

(Sometimes it makes him laugh, to watch as they're interviewed and see the tiredness in their faces, the lines around their eyes that seem to deepen with every bad race. They're too accepting, he thinks. Too old. They don't know what it takes to win, not anymore.)

But he's never been sure _why_ , out of everyone in the paddock, they chose him. Youth, he supposes, presumed inexperience. They probably thought he'd be easy to use, would happily do whatever was required of him and then beg for more like a good, grateful little boy.

They like that, calling him _boy_. "Brave boy," Jenson will say, and then laugh. "Daddy's little whore, aren't you, sweetheart?"

Max is riding Jenson's cock, the length of it thick inside him. He leans forward, Jenson pulling him in for a kiss, and then moans when Fernando slides two fingers into him, next to Jenson. "You think he can take both of us?" says Fernando.

"I don't know," says Jenson. "Try it."

They don't ask, and Max concentrates on staying relaxed, whining restlessly as Fernando steadily pushes in, his hands an iron grip on Max's hips, hard enough to bruise. Jenson strokes his hair, petting and soothing, and it's so fucking good, the way it hurts, to be this filled.

A few moments pass, and then Fernando mutters something in Spanish, starts to move.

_"Fuck,"_ Jenson says at the feeling of it. "Oh, _shit."_

Max is between them, the pain overwhelming. He's as helpless as he's ever been, but he's utterly in control. Even as he gasps, tries not to scream, his lip curls up in a smile of triumph, because he knows.

This is what it takes to win.


	7. Sebastian Vettel/Nico Rosberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be a joke. Set after the Japanese GP press conference.

It was easy enough to sneak into Mercedes through the back of the hospitality area, and Nico's room wasn't difficult to find. Sebastian didn't bother knocking, simply walking in.

Nico was standing on the other side of the room, facing away from the door. He wasn't wearing a shirt and the lower half of his body was clad only in his fireproof underwear. Sebastian's eyes trailed over broad shoulders, a well-muscled back and a high, round ass. He swallowed.

"What?" Nico snapped irritably, not turning around.

Sebastian didn't reply, closing the door behind him, making sure to lock it.

Nico shifted from one foot to another, glancing back over his shoulder. He frowned in what seemed to be surprise at the sight of Sebastian, but quickly regained composure. "What do _you_ want?" he said.

"You weren't smiling," Sebastian stated.

Nico finally turned to face him, and Sebastian couldn't stop himself from looking downwards, staring for a second at the thick outline of Nico's cock, clearly visible through the almost transparent fabric of his underwear. And _fuck_ , that was big, Sebastian thought. Way bigger than he would have guessed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Nico asked.

"In the press conference," answered Sebastian. "When you said you were smiling, you weren't."

"Yes I was."

"No you weren't, I saw the footage."

Nico shrugged his shoulders, tossing his head dismissively as the hint of a smirk played along the perfect curve of his upper lip.

"It was a joke," Sebastian said obstinately. "You were supposed to laugh."

"It wasn't funny," Nico replied. 

"Other people thought it was funny."

"Who?" Nico challenged.

"I don't know." Sebastian tried to think. "The journalists, they laughed."

Nico gave him a pitying look. "They'd laugh at anything you say just to make you like them."

"That's not true," said Sebastian, though it probably was.

Nico folded his arms and leaned back against the massage table in the middle of the room. His eyes were shining, but his voice was impatient when he said, "Are you here for any actual reason?"

Sebastian stepped forward almost instinctively, reaching out and grabbing Nico's cock through his underwear, rubbing at it roughly. Nico gasped quietly, and Sebastian forced himself to slow down. His fingers circled around the shaft, and he ran his hand up and down, feeling it begin to stir and swell under the touch. "This," he said firmly, holding Nico's questioning gaze, not flinching. "This is why I'm here."

Nico looked back at him, and then finally smiled. "Well," he said, "why didn't you say so?"


	8. Kimi Raikkonen/Valtteri Bottas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimi swears there was a gap. Set after the Russian GP.

"There was a gap," Kimi says as Valtteri pushes him up against the wall.

"You were too far back." Valtteri's teeth bite down on Kimi's neck, hard enough to leave a mark, high enough that everyone will be able to see it. Punishment, Kimi supposes, but it's not as if he cares what people think.

_Some_ people.

_Most_ people.

"There was a gap," Kimi repeats stubbornly, and Valtteri steps back, looks at him.

"Do you want to talk or fuck?" he asks, as impatient as Kimi's ever heard him.

Kimi shrugs, not saying anything, because Valtteri already knows the answer to that question.

"Good," says Valtteri. "Now turn around," he says, and Kimi obeys, bracing himself against the wall, waiting.


	9. Kimi Raikkonen/Sebastian Vettel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zombie AU

Kimi hurriedly ripped a strip of fabric off the bottom of his t-shirt. It was filthy with grime and sweat and god knew what else, but he wrapped it around Sebastian’s forearm anyway, tying the ends firmly. The bite was deep, and the virus would already be spreading, creeping through Sebastian’s veins, relentless and unstoppable.

This couldn’t be happening, Kimi thought, not after they’d survived this long together. The makeshift bandage was secure, but Kimi didn’t let go of Sebastian’s wrist, gripping it tight. He stared down, not wanting to meet Sebastian’s eyes.

“I know I can trust you,” Sebastian said, quietly. “I know you’ll do it.”

Kimi looked up at him. “I don’t want to,” he said. “Maybe it’s not so bad, maybe they didn’t infect you.”

“No.” Sebastian smiled at him ruefully, shaking his head. “You know I love you, right?” he said. “You know that.”

“I know,” Kimi replied. “I love you too.” When they kissed, there was already the faintest taste of it: the bitter sourness of decay.

By evening, Sebastian’s eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was beginning to flake and yellow, his movements slowing.

Neither of them slept. They lit a fire to deter any infected ones from attacking, and sat beside it, staring into the flames in silence. Sebastian rested his head on Kimi’s shoulder, sighing in contentment, and Kimi wrapped one arm around him.

“You won’t forget me?” Sebastian asked, just before sunrise.

“Never,” Kimi promised.

It wasn’t so long after that Sebastian stood, stretching out his limbs with halting, stilted awkwardness. He turned to face Kimi, mouth slack, face wide and pale, like some grotesque caricature of himself.

Kimi’s gun was beside him, ready. He raised it without hesitation and took aim, unwavering.


	10. Jenson Button/Nico Rosberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenson is Nico's hired bodyguard.

The strangest thing about Nico was that while he might superficially appear to be as spoiled and self-indulgent as every other rich kid Jenson had provided personal protection for, he was also, somewhat surprisingly, a fundamentally decent guy. And Jenson didn't consider himself a person who was easily surprised but that, he had to admit, was not what he expected.

Because while yes, Nico played the role he'd been assigned, what with the partying and the clubs and the famous friends, it seemed to be just that: a role. Underneath the decadent, glossy surface, he was also kind, respectful. He looked out for his friends, was generous, took care of people. 

Jenson found it slightly disconcerting. More than slightly, if he was honest, but he didn't let it affect his work.

Jenson prided himself on not letting anything affect his work.

"Will that be all for tonight?" Jenson asked after he'd seen Nico up to his hotel suite at four AM and done a sweep of the rooms, just to be sure. They were alone, as they usually were, because even though Nico was an unrepentant flirt, he almost never brought anyone home.

"No," Nico said, "actually, there's one more thing." His shirt was unbuttoned and his hair was still damp and darkened with sweat. He ran a hand through it and then smiled as he walked towards Jenson, who stood there, frozen.

Nico slowly, _oh_ so slowly, traced a cool fingertip up the line of Jenson's throat, then leaned in and kissed him, lips so soft it seemed impossible.

For a brief second, Jenson forgot himself, but then he pushed Nico away. "Please don't do that," he said.

"Why not?" Nico asked.

"You know why," Jenson answered firmly. 

"Ever the professional," Nico murmured, smiling. "But I can wait." He licked his lips, so beautiful Jenson had to consciously stop himself from moaning. "You'll change your mind," said Nico.

"I won't," Jenson replied, not convincing even himself.

"We'll see." Nico backed away, pulling off his shirt and tossing it carelessly on the floor. He turned and walked into the bedroom, leaving the door open, standing in clear view as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down. He wasn't wearing any underwear, his ass two perfect rounds of muscle.

_Stop watching_ , Jenson told himself. _Look away_. This was a violation of boundaries, and that wasn't something he did.

Any moment now, he swore, he'd look away.


	11. Mark Webber/Sebastian Vettel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Seb at the FIA gala.

He looks good, but then he always looks good. Youth, Mark used to think, but even Seb's not so young anymore.

He'd thought about how it would feel, being here as a champion, watching him receive the consolation prize of a distant third, and while it's satisfying enough, Mark knows that to Seb, his won't be a _real_ championship. And once Mark would have agreed, but in the past two years he's learned that the world is bigger and wider than he ever would have dreamed.

They smile for the cameras, their shoulders touching, and Mark rests his hand low on Seb's back. Even through the suit, he can feel him tense, muscles tightening. 

The photographer walks away, looking down at his camera to check the pictures he's taken, and Mark wonders what he sees there. Two people: nothing more, nothing less, a shared history so raw even the distance of time has done nothing to heal, make the memories any less painful.

Todt nods at them both, moves off to talk to someone else.

"Congratulations," Seb says.

"Yeah, thanks." Mark's tie is too tight, and he feels like he can't breathe. "You too," he says.

Later in the evening, when the prizes are done and the alcohol is flowing, Seb stares at him from across the room. He holds Mark's gaze for a minute, then heads in the direction of the bathroom.

Mark finishes off his drink before he follows.

Inside, there are two guys at the urinals, chatting and joking with one another, and Mark washes his hands, waits for them to leave.

Seb is in the last stall, shirt unbuttoned, tie loose around his neck, and he smiles knowingly.

Old habits die hard, Mark thinks. He doesn't smile back, locking the door behind him.


	12. Mark Webber/Fernando Alonso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando is Mark's sub, but Mark has news. (Also implied Mark/Mitch Evans)

Fernando's on the bed, hands tied tight behind his back, legs spread wide, and Mark's working him over, just right. Hit after hit, and Fernando's almost exactly where he needs to be when Mark says, "By the way, I'm taking on another sub."

"What?" Fernando says, forgetting himself completely with the shock of the words. He hisses in pain as Mark brings the whip down extra hard in punishment: one, two, three strokes.

"Now you can speak," Mark tells him.

"Sorry," says Fernando, contrite. "But why do you need another sub?" _What about me?_ he wants to ask, _Aren't I enough for you?_ but he knows better than that.

"I don't _need_ another sub," replies Mark. "This one needs me." He runs a firm, steady hand down Fernando's thigh, and says, "He's young, completely untrained. "

"Oh." Fernando doesn't know what to say.

Mark climbs on to the bed, crawling up beside Fernando, lying down next to him. Their faces are almost touching, close enough that Fernando can feel Mark's breath on his face as he speaks. "And _you_ need to learn," he says, hand cradling around Fernando's cheek, thumb stroking gently over his skin. "Trust," he says, softly, leaning even closer, pressing his mouth against Fernando's in a brief, frustratingly elusive kiss, before he stands up, moving out of Fernando's line of sight.

Mark always tells Fernando that he's too possessive, that jealousy stems from insecurity, and he tries, he really does, but it's not easy.

"What's his name?" he asks.

There's a long pause, and then Mark answers. "Mitch," he says.


End file.
